TW: None

Title: ~Burning Away My Dark~

“Do you seriously have nothing else but jeans and hoodies in your wardrobe?” he says as he rummages through Parvis’s meagre wardrobe. It makes sense, he supposes, he doesn’t exactly have an entire enterprise to run and appearances to keep and all that. Plus, blood stains permanently on him for some reason. Weird.

“I don’t really have a reason for fancy clothes like you, Will,” says Parv from his bed, using his magic to levitate a feather from one of his pillows. “I’m just a blood mage, hell, I’d probably stain it like no other! And you know how much I hate doing the laundry.”

Will hums in agreement, though he was deep in thought. “Yeah, it’s why I made the automatic laundry system for you,” he says absently, trying to find a way to get clothes in time for the gala. The Very Important Gala for Strife Solutions, the one that would help him net deals with the other corporations, yes Will I know that already from all the times you keep talking about it. Just then, a message flashes into his glasses; yet another obnoxious advert for that new department store that popped out of nowhere- hey wait!

They look at each other at the same moment, and Parvis doesn’t even get enough time for a headstart.

.~'~.~'

“You know, I do have a spell for this so I can just fly alongside you,” Parvis says as they fly over yet another ocean. “It’d be much faster too.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to risk you suddenly dropping into the ocean because you couldn’t aim properly. Trust the jetpack expert to know what he’s doing,” Will looks dead ahead, trying to concentrate on Parvis, the map, and where he’s steering. It’s not as easy as he makes it look, but the illusion that he knows he’s in control is still comforting.

“Why do I even need to be in this stupid gala anyway?” nearly makes Will stop and think for a moment. He hopes that the slight shift as they fly wasn’t as noticeable to Parvis as it was to Will.

“Because I’ll have no one to laugh at when they get hilariously drunk off of free alcohol.”

“They have free alcohol? I’m sold already!”

.~'~.~'

“I don’t think I’ve seen this much consumerism located in one place in my entire life,” comments Will when they enter the store. There are robots milling about, inspecting shelves and racks of products, though there’s a disturbing lack of actual customers around.

“Must be a slow day,” Parv says, before leisurely strolling into the store. Will could’ve easily thought something was up with the structure, with its sudden appearance and rather strange goal and all the robots loitering the place. He doesn’t know why he let Parv just stroll into the store, as though there were no red flags appearing in his head!

He’s pulled away from his thoughts by Parvis coming back from wherever he went. “Men’s Formal Wear’s on the fifth floor, if we’re still going for that,” Will stares at him for a few moments, still trying to dig himself out of his thoughts. “Oh! And the toys are on the third floor. Can we make a pit stop, please Will? Pleeeeease?”

Will shakes his head. “No, Parv. We don’t even know how much this stuff costs, much less what currency they use! We’re still on barter trade for everyone else, for pete’s sake! We don’t have time for it, anyway,” He gestures towards a pad that flying users can use. How convenient.

“Alright, alright! No need to get so testy. What’s gotten your knickers in a twist, Strifey?” says Parv as Will’s arms wrap around his torso to jet up to the fifth floor. It’s the same business as the other floors, racks upon racks of formal wear with robots loitering the large expanse of the floor.

“Could be fun playing a hide and seek game here,” says Parv when his feet settle on the ground. “Great big mass of land. It’s almost like Parvtopia! Except without the whole… dungeon and witches and all that. Can’t even run around in it anymore. Aw,” he depresses at that, and Will shakes his head, ignoring the urge to say ‘I can fix that’ to make the slight frown go away.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go get some clothes for you, the gala’s at sundown and we’ve already spent enough time dilly dallying.”

“Alright, alright. As long as you’re paying and all I have to do is sit and look pretty for you,” Parv reaches for the nearest suit and puts it in front of him, batting his eyelashes at Will. Will quickly swats him away and tells him to “Put that back, you idiot. It’s not even your colour. “

It takes a few hours of rummaging through blazers and ties and their rudimentary knowledge of colour palettes and clothing in general until they find one for Parv. Will adjusts his white tie using the mirror in one of the empty changing rooms. The door in the stall beside him opens.

“So what do you think?”

There are a few moments of inspection before Will exits the stall to see how their choices turned out. He restrains himself from reacting beyond the normal deadpan expression he always has. “Looks decent enough.”

From top to bottom, Parvis is decked out in black. Shiny black shoes, black dress pants, black vest, black blazer, but they got the maroon tie in for good measure. Will can vaguely recall reading somewhere that black is slimming, and it’s safe to say that whatever column it was, well, was right. Of course, he chucks this all to the fact that it’ll be hard to stain something that’s already black. He doesn’t notice Parvis’ exasperated look at himself through the mirror.

“Alright, let’s go to this stupid gala,” he huffs lightly, pulling at the tie as though it would disappear with little resistance.

.~'~.~'

When they both arrive at the event, neither expected anything more than a boring dinner party in a hastily built ballroom in some grandiose mountain overlooking the rest of the world. But no, instead there is a large mansion (“With working fountains and everything! Will, why doesn’t Strife Solutions have that?”), and it’s already very apparent that someone pulled out all the stops for a house party rather than a social event.

“Hey, Will!” someone calls them over. A little squint makes Sips recognisable, though he looks to already be inebriated and covered in glowing goop.

“Hello Sips, I see you’re already having fun?” asks Will, who puts his hands on his pockets. Parvis, in the background, nabs two seemingly radioactive drinks from a passing waiter. “Didn’t expect this kind of shindig, actually.”

Sips shrugs. “I’d have preferred something like this anyway,” he looks over at the both of them. “I see you’re dressed up for a different occasion, though,” he gestures at them, though his hands are full with drinks. “All matchy matchy and stuff. Came here together and all that, eh?”

Will sputters, and is grateful for the orange-tinted light washing over them. “N-no! We just… went for the safest pick in wear and all such details. Where is Sjin, anyway? Or Lewis, if he’s what you’re going for today.”

Sips gives him a look before finishing off one of his drinks and sets it on the table. “Oh no no no, you aren’t deflecting this on me,” he waggles his finger at him. “But anyway, look at you! You stick out like a sore thumb. Look at your boyfriend back there,” Will looks back to see that Parvis was already mingling with some of the other folks in the server. More like making a fool out of himself.

“First of all, not my boyfriend-“

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. Grab some drinks, try and convince yourself that, and then get back to me,” Will raises his finger again, which Sips puts down with his hand. “We’ll talk about the deals between Sips Co. and Strife Solutions tomorrow. Or some day after that,” Will watches as he moves back into the crowd, somehow hands yet again full of drinks. “Have fun! Be merry, for once in your goddamn life!”

Will practically grinds his teeth before settling down on a table, staying fully sober for a solid half hour until he sees someone grinding on a certain someone else and surrenders to whatever vices they have for the night.

.~'~.~'

And if either of them remember that they had kissed (made out) in the middle of the ambush of booming music, flashing lights, and the heady feeling of having one too many shots in their bloodstream, well, neither will ever tell.

Except, perhaps, when Parvis mentions the gala and all Will can do is sputter and blush a bright red.